This was previously untitled and it probably should have stayed that way.
I was obviously heavily influenced by Ray Bradbury when I wrote this. At
least I was good at imagery.

A Knock at the Door

He rocks in his chair
Back and forth, to and fro
Muttering truths or war
Back and forth, to and fro
The final human alive

Darkly setting sun brightens
Another place, another time
He rocks in his chair
Half senile, half dead
Clutching the precious doll to his chest

The time has come
All things must end
He raises his weary bones
The chair keeps rocking
Back and forth, to and fro

The doll falls to the floor as
He rises to answer the knock at the door